


Canis Taedium

by Emmaficready



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Bestiality, Bittersweet Ending, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:07:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23435167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmaficready/pseuds/Emmaficready
Summary: When Harry fell, then Ron and the others in short order afterwards, she didn't care what the mad bitch had cast upon her. All eyes were upon him, upon Voldemort and his victory to care about something so banal as a dog. Even if that dog was her.WARNING: DARK STORY Abuse / Torture / Death / Animal Abuse
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Severus Snape, Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 46
Kudos: 203





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS:
> 
> Not for the squeamish Angsty from the get go, depressing at best, very dark at worst. Occasional bits of light but this is a GYTO story. (Get your tissues out).
> 
> Not Happy Ever After, but bittersweet ending in a way.
> 
> There will be Graphic Torture / Death / Abuse / Angst /Animal Abuse / And a smidge of Bestiality (if you squint) though that's debatable, you'll understand more as you read.

**PART 1 OF 2**

**HERMIONE**

* * *

For a time she had wished she knew what it was that the mad woman had cast upon her, shortly before her own gruesome death at the hands of Molly Weasley, but when Harry fell she simply stopped caring. When Harry fell, then Ron and the others in short order afterwards, she didn't care. In fact she was almost grateful. Grateful for the mad bitch that had tortured her half to insanity and then cast whatever the hell this was upon her. Thankful that 4 legs moved faster than 2, thankful that no one, not even a death eater, cared to look upon something so mundane as a big frightened dog fleeing the battle with it's tail tucked between its legs.

All eyes were upon him, upon Voldemort and his victory to care about something so banal as a dog.

Even if that dog was _her._

She allowed herself a moment to whine as she passed the fallen form of the headmistress, but no longer. A Canine tongue lathed her hand in apology, regret and farewell and then she was gone into the forest.

They burnt the bodies of the fallen with fiendfyre and the smell lingered in the air for hours, choking all of her heightened senses. It was a cloying and awful smell and she could practically taste it as it swamped the forest with its vileness. She watched the smoke as it rose above Hogwarts so thick it blacked out the sun, turning day into horrific night. Ash fell from the sky like snow flakes and she was reminded of photographs and films she had seen in muggle school of camps and stars and swastikas.

The centaurs found her, and brought her to their camp in the forest that night. They tried with their magic to do what they could, but nothing worked. Centaur magic was so different to wizards after all, but she was grateful that they tried.

For a few days she waited around the forest, edging closer and closer to the castle. Hoping to see someone, hoping for an ally, a straggler, a friend. The smoke billowed for days and prevented her from getting too close, it made her eyes itch and her throat hurt.

When at last the smoke abated enough for her to reach the grounds, she was struck by the cloyingly sweet smell of decay. Of rancid and rotten meat. It confused her at first, for she thought all the bodies had been burned. Though she got her answer when she approached the wrought iron gates of the School.

They _had_ burned the bodies.

Just not their heads.

* * *

She wandered through Hogsmeade, staying in alleys and out of sight. She had thoughts of going to Aberforth at the Hogs Head, only to find it as desecrated as Hogwarts itself, with the head of the man himself guarding the outside as much as the rest of the order's had guarded the gates of the school.

Hogsmeade burned as Hogwarts had, with few businesses left intact. Those that were intact flew Slytherin Colours in the windows, and had drawn the morsmorde on or about their doors.

A death eater in the street threw a hex at her that sliced her flank, it would've disembowelled her had she not jumped evasively to the side admist the amused laughter of the Death Eater who amused himself by hexing stray animals. As it was, her side burned and bled, and when she finished running she attempted to clean it as much as she could with only her teeth and tongue and she promised herself she would not get so close to another death eater again. That she would not be so careless.

She moved on and away, leaving Hogsmeade behind and moving to the muggle villages, in her attempt to make her way to London. The only thought she had of finding Grimmauld place, and perhaps an ally to change her back.

It was hard to comprehend the distance for a dog to walk from Edinburgh to London, it would take her weeks, months perhaps. But what else had she to do? So she walked. And walked.

Food was scarce and for the first time in her life she felt real thirst. It was easy to imagine the sensation of going hungry, as her stomach rolled and gurgled in a way that had become achingly familiar this last year, but there had always been wands and an aguamnenti before, so there was nothing worse than when she went a day or more without finding safe water to drink, it was unfamiliar, unpleasant and at times when the days stretched on...terrifying. That she would survive all that she had, to die of exposure and dehydration.

* * *

For weeks, perhaps a month she did little but walk. She learnt to quickly avoid most muggles, and a quick growl was surprisingly enough to deter any who wandered too close. She had been walking for about a month at her best guess, as it was difficult for her to keep track of time, when she caught an issue of a daily prophet that stopped her in her tracks.

She saw the wizard that sat on the park bench, the prophet held in his shaky hands. It was Terry Boot, Ravenclaw and halfblood. Before she could approach him and hope to be recognised, whatever he was reading made him turn white as a sheet, before he cast the paper down and apparated away. She approached the discarded paper and was grateful to see that even as a dog she was able to read the words on the pages, though the colours weren't quite right, and the charms on the paper did not make it appear plain as it would to a muggle.

Though it was the contents that made her reel in shock.

**"Last Rebels rooted out and Hideout Burned! "**

And there in black and white was Grimmauld Place. In all its grim old glory, burning as the still bodies of Kingsley Shackelbolt and Andromeda Tonks lay out on the ground before it.

It was a special edition and after ripping the front page off so that she could read the rest, she sat down before she fell down, at the feeling of her legs giving out from under her.

The next two pages were a photographic checklist. All...Crossed...Out.

Every order member, every light sympathiser, every one who would defy the dark.

Every safe house.

Dead.

Burnt.

Gone.

* * *

She wandered in a daze then, aimlessly travelling wherever her nose or her feet led her. When the hunger in her rose so high her stomach cramped in pain, she tried more than once to approach friendly looking muggles thinking that even the life of a house pet might be better than this. Though she discovered that they would flee from her or shoo her away. A look in a shop window gave her the reason. Of course she'd known that she was a dog and a large one at that, but beyond being the colour of honey that was all she was able to discern. Looking at her reflection in the shop window she realised she was in fact a large and threatening looking bull type breed. Perhaps a big Bully or a cane corso or some mix therein. With her scarred flank, she looked dangerous and didn't begrudge the muggles who fled.

It struck her as odd though, her form and she often wondered if Bellatrix had intended to turn her into a dog, or if it had been random, or perhaps she had been forced unknowingly into her previously undiscovered animagus form. Though it didn't seem to sit right, for she had no discernible link to the large dog that she saw before her and had always thought that if she were to study to become an animagus as she had planned to, that she would be an otter like her patronus or perhaps even a Gryffindor lioness, so the dangerous looking dog before her was a mystery.

As the weather got colder it became harder and harder to find food. Her weight she had clung to in the summer, began to fall from her at an alarming rate and though she still avoided the dog wardens that would attempt to capture her (She did not come as far as she had to be put to sleep as an un-adoptable stray in a muggle kennels)

She was thankful that her tastebuds were those of a dog and as such certain things smelled somewhat appealing. It was useful when picking up old pieces of mouldy food from the ground, that she could not taste it as a human would, though it did nothing to stop the mental aspect. We eat with our eyes after all, and her sight was still very much human. So despite her dog form finding those scraps of food perfectly palatable, her human mind would often rebel and cause her to feel nauseous when she ate.

As far as she could tell by the accents she was somewhere in Lancashire, when a muggle finally approached her, long after she had given up hopes of finding one sympathetic to her plight. He passed her in a white transit van, and had stopped, reversed and after a few moments gotten out not far away from her. He had an Irish accent and called her a "bonny lass" as he held out something that smelled divine. Roast..Beef..

She was determined for this man to take her home. She would do whatever it took to convince this muggle that she would make the perfect pet for him. If the choice she had was starving to death on the cold streets or eating this mans leftovers. She would happily chase balls, do tricks or whatever else he wanted her to do for the privilege of sitting by his feet somewhere warm.

Trying to think of everything she could to show she was friendly, that she was a good girl, she'd be his bonny lass, she crawled over to him on her stomach making herself as low as possible in the hopes that he wouldn't notice how large of a dog she really was and be put off by her size. Her tail wagged faster than it had ever done before and she offered her paw in exchange for the meat that he handed over freely.

He continued making coaxing noises, carefully slipping a lead over her head and offered her more pieces of the meat that she willingly gobbled up without even tasting them. It didn't raise in her mind to question why he had so much meat on him, or a dog lead but no dog. And why did he keep making those coaxing noises? Did he not realise she was sold on him the minute he offered her that beef? _I am yours mister, just take me away somewhere I don't have to think about any of this anymore._

The meat had a soporific effect after going so long without food and she began to feel content and drowsy. Very drowsy. In fact downright exhausted. It was only when she vomited and her legs couldn't hold her weight anymore that she realised he'd slipped her something in the meat.

As she felt him lift her, she wondered why he'd need to do that, when she would've happily gone anywhere he asked her to as long as he fed her that meat.

Then everything went black.

* * *

She knew something was wrong the second she woke up.

The sounds and smells of other dogs surrounded her and the deafening cacophony of barking made her head hurt as she panted in anxiety.

It was obvious she was in a kennel, outside. And by the barking surrounding her she wasn't alone. It was by no means warm but it was not as cold as outside which was one thing.

The barking was really getting to her, and she backed herself into a corner as much as she could once she realised there was no way she could get out of the gate by herself. Despite the months now spent in the form of a dog, she had tried her best to avoid others on the streets and now she was surrounded by them.

Voices roused her from her thoughts and the Irish man that had brought her here, appeared at the gate of the kennel with another man. They were speaking Irish, Gaelic and Hermione had no clue what they were saying though it was clear they were talking about her.

He approached her making those coaxing noises once more, with a handful of meat. Despite the growling of her stomach she ignored them and instead growled at him. She wasn't going to fall for that again.

The other man laughed at the first man and they spoke something quickly but still she was unable to discern their words. When she refused to touch the meat, they left it on the floor and left the kennel, leaving her once more alone.

She ignored the meat, despite her growling stomach, she knew it was tainted. She sniffed it delicately and sure enough the harsh chemical smell shone through. She had missed it before when she had trustingly wolfed down what she was given, but now that she took her time it was clear to spot. Committing the scent to memory, she made sure she would not be caught so unaware again.

When the men returned hours later, his pleasant manner disappeared on finding the food untouched. This time when he entered the kennel he tried to force the meat down her throat, so she bit him. Hard. Hard enough to draw blood.

The man screamed in pain and rewarded her with a harsh kick, even as his friend laughed at his misfortune.

"Have it your way then Bitch" She heard, in English this time, as the disgruntled man spat at her.

When he came back there was four of them. And once more they were speaking fluent Gaelic so she had no idea what they were saying. She was backed into a corner and grabbed by two, then three of the men. They used their body weight to pin her down, she was a large dog but the three of them dwarfed her and she was flattened to the ground with little effort. A muzzle was shoved on her face and a knee pressed between her shoulder blades to keep her head to the ground.

Then there was only pain.

She cried and whined when they cut her ears, the initial sharp pain jolting through her until it faded to a vicious burning as a hot iron was used to cauterise the wound. Rivulets of blood fell into her eyes and down her muzzle and the smell made her think of those fires at Hogwarts once more. There was the vague sensation of something being pushed underneath her and the sound of wood scraping on the stone floor. Silence for a moment, and another as she held still in fear and anticipation. Then there was the whistling sound of the air parting, as something passed through it at high speed. Them the dull thunk of metal embedding itself in wood. Then the pain. Blinding, Debilitating pain. The pain in her butchered ears and the cries she had made as they cut them was nothing to compared to the way she screamed when they cut off her tail. They had used a hunting knife to crop her ears but they used a meat cleaver to dock her tail in one fell swoop. She barely registered the burning as they cauterised the stump the same way they had her ears, none of that registered beyond the pain of that cleaver going straight through muscle, tendon and bone. They released her and she backed away from them as quickly as she could, only to start screaming and attempting to climb the walls at the sight of one of them walking out with her still twitching tail grasped in his hand.

From the sound of it, he threw it to another dog when he left. She felt the blackness rise up to meet her once more.

For days after she would randomly whine and cry as she choked back the hysterical thoughts that when she regained her human form she might have elf ears like Legolas. Though she had no idea what the docked tail would do to her human form and tried not to think about it.

The pain in her tail drove her to insanity, until despite knowing it was a bad idea she found herself turning and gnawing at the wound until it bled. When they brought her the daily food, she was muzzled. And it wasn't removed until they came back with food and water that she greedily lapped up, having been unable to do so with the muzzle in place.

Though her wound healed over a few weeks, they kept her muzzled for a different reason now. She would not let any of them near her, any who approached were subjected to her teeth and growls though it often didn't garner the responce she wanted.

Instead of being frightened or angered, they seemed pleased.

The more she growled, the more they smiled.

The more she raised her lip and bared her teeth, they threw her tasty cuts of meat or cheese. Not tainted with drugs.

Despite the fact they seemed to encourage her anger, and use every opportunity they could to taunt her into lashing out, they fed her well. large meals, twice daily every day. She was dragged out of the kennel, muzzled and on a chain that choked her if she pulled too hard.

They would drive round the entire camp holding the lead outside the window so she was forced to run alongside the car as they laughed.

She gained the weight she had lost, and became fitter as time went on. Soon she could easily keep up with the car at speed, and she almost escaped. Almost. She'd managed to build enough muscle that she almost managed to scale the walls of the kennels, but was caught at the last minute and then moved to one with a roof.

They continued to hit her, kick her, taunt her. The man always carried this coloured stick and she soon learned that the more she snarled, the more she bit and lunged, the more food he gave. None of it was drugged, so she gave him what he wanted. For she needed her strength if she were ever to escape this place, but she never let him touch her willingly. More than happy to take a chunk out of whatever part of him came close enough in the few moments when she was not muzzled.

* * *

Weeks later the time came that they took her and some of the other dogs away from the kennels and this time into the back of a van once more. She was shoved into a cage and then swamped in darkness as the door shut with a click behind her. The panicked barks and cries of the others, the only thing disturbing the darkness.

They arrived somewhere in the country and the dogs were pulled out one by one. Some were brought back alive but most weren't. The ones that came back alive smelled of blood, piss and fear.

He was angry when he came for her at last, it seemed he wasn't too happy with the amount of dogs that had not returned in one piece to the van and so she was the last that was grabbed and pulled out. She had learned the hard way not to fight against the pronged collar when it was on, and instead went where he led her. Unlike the normal chain that pinched and tightened, the prong collar embedded itself into her skin if she pulled against it. A feeling she was not keen on repeating.

It was only when she was thrown over a fence and into the middle of what appeared to be a sand pit that she realised where she was. Understood the bodies that had returned to the van. The muzzle was promptly removed as she took in her surroundings with dawning horror.

This wasn't a sand pit, it was a ring. And suddenly she realised why so many dogs had not returned alive.

They were dog fighting, and she was next.

* * *

First she attempted to climb her way out, only to be hit on the nose when she tried. And then all thoughts were drawn to the other dog that was being thrown over the fence and into the pit as she had been only moments before. It was larger than her, bulkier, male. And it was already fighting the hold of its master, with her set in his sights. And then, he was released.

He barrelled towards her, but she dodged him easily. He was large and strong, but she was faster and more agile, easily evading his attack. The screaming, cheering and jeering of the men was fading into the background of her consciousness and she dodged and weaved as the brutish beast perused her. She didn't want to hurt a dog, even as a dog herself. She tried every trick she had learned, every piece of body language, every cry to show him that she did not want to be here. Either he didn't hear her, or he didn't care. The whites of his eyes were showing and saliva and foam dripped from his face only adding horror to his visage.

Her plan to avoid the inevitable fight until he became too tired to pursue her, was thwarted by the angry men that were not impressed by her avoidance tactics. She was hit with sticks, and once with an electric prod that shocked her, every time she got too close to the edge. The space she could use without injuring herself became smaller and smaller, and as it did his size an bulk began to give him the advantage.

She caught a glancing bite to her leg which bled profusely, then screamed in pain when the jaws locked on tighter and she felt something give. She tried to remain docile in his hold, hoping he would give up his attack but then at a shouted command from outside the ring, he let go and grabbed hold of the flesh at the back of her neck.

Everything that she once was, was pushed away then as fear and instinct took over the second he had her by the neck. The next few moments were a blur and when she finally regained control of her senses, the other dog was dead on the floor with a neck wound reminiscent of the one he'd tried to dispatch her with. There was a coppery taste of blood in her mouth, and she was vaguely aware of the cheering and laughter of the man who brought her here.

Something was wrong with her leg though, it wouldn't take her weight and when the man walked in with the prong collar, she ambled towards him.

She wanted her kennel, she wanted the wooden crate that passed for her bed, she wanted the familiar smells and walls.

Better the devil you know.

* * *

Her leg didn't heal the way he wanted it to. He never took her to the vet of course, merely strapped it up with some vet wrap bandage and cleaned it with alcohol and not the medicinal kind. Eventually it healed, but she was lame on it. She could walk but little else without a pronounced limp in her gait.

She never thought she'd long to race beside the cars as they drove rings around the caravans, but she did.

It became harder and harder to concentrate on who she was at times, she would internally recite pages and tomes of books from memory but more oft than not her thoughts were giving way to instincts that belonged to the body and not to the mind.

He never took her back to the fights. Instead he started taking her to another dog. At first she snarled and threatened him as she'd been taught, her injury making her more and more aware of her own fragility and that base and subconscious instinct to just _survive_ that plagued all creatures on the planet. Though she soon realised this dog had no interest in fighting her. He'd approach her with interest, sometimes sniff her and she allowed it with a growled warning, then ignored it, when he showed no further interest in her. Eventually the other dog would back off and leave her, and she'd stare at the man, her captor, as if to say "what now?".  
She wondered if this was some training she wasn't grasping, what did he want from her? He didn't want her to fight because she was muzzled.  
It was confusing and she didn't understand. If Hermione hated anything in the world, it was not understanding, not knowing the answer. The gap in her knowledge infuriating and unsettling her.

This process repeated, day after day.

Until one day she finally understood. And wished fervantly that she didn't. They say that ignorance is bliss, and she had never understood why anyone would wish for ignorance. But now she wished for it, longed for it, would've prayed for it, if a single ounce of her thought that there was any deity out there that would listen, for if there was any deity out there in existance, she had certainly done something in her life to offend them.

The first time the dog jumped on her back, she tried to kill him. Would've killed him if it wasn't for the muzzle. She guarded her neck and back viciously after her time in the ring. The scar upon her neck, never regrew it's fur so it was a patch of dark grey skin that mottled her otherwise golden coat, along with every other scar she wore upon her hide.

Despite the muzzle though, there was no mistaking her intention and the other dog had quickly backed away as the swearing man yanked on the pronged collar she wore, in punishment for her actions.

It was soon apparent to her though, the second time the dog jumped upon her back.

He was not trying to kill her, no.

This was worse.

What fresh new hell was this?

* * *

She fought then. Fought more than she had ever fought in the ring, in the war, but it was useless. Eventually she was tied down by two of the men and all she could do was be thankful for those fumbled nights in the tent with Ronald, that this poisonous, degrading and vile act she was being forced to endure was not the only one of it's kind she had to remember. She vomited and they just laughed.

For the first time, she let the instincts take over. Allowed her mind to cloud and wander, and afterwards she wished once more for her human form, if only to have the emotional release of tears.

Instead, she longed for the concrete floors and walls of her home.

They took her twice more to the other dog and each time she fought until her legs could barely hold her from the exhaustion, and was thankful for when the time came that they took her to the dog and he no longer showed any interest in her once more.

The first time it happened she thought that she had somehow missed them tainting her food. They fed her more now than they ever had, and it has always been free of the drugs that had landed her in this hell. Her stomach lurched again and she once more waited for her legs to go from under her, awaited the blackness that came last time...a part of her even longed for it.

But when the blackness didn't come, the nausea didn't come, but the feeling didn't stop... she finally understood.

For the first time that night she howled. Howled out her horror, howled out her anguish and just howled. For the first time she felt the madness creeping up on her she finally understood the term "lunatic" as she continued to howl her anguish to the moon above.

* * *

She felt them within her. Her _children._

Moving and wriggling and briefly she wondered how they would be when they were born. Would they be half human, grotesque monsters? Is this perhaps where the original werewolf came from? At first she attempted to fight the madness that rose within by simply ignoring those thoughts, and allowing her mind to drift away as the instincts took over. Find somewhere, make it warm and comfortable, make it safe.

Though when her labour finally came, she didn't know in her delirium if she was relieved or disappointed that they were just puppies. A part of her had wanted them to be grotesque, to make the men, her captors, fear and suffer and scream as she had. She had wanted the horror.

But no...they were just puppies. As though she was any other dog, and not a witch cursed this way by another witch.

It was then she finally understood the depth of her situation as the hormones flooding her system drove her to care for and clean the lives that she was bearing to the world. She had finally got her answer on whether or not this was her Animagus form. For if it _was_ , this would have not been possible, _Could not_ have been possible. She was not an animagus at all but something else entirely. More than that... she wasn't certain she was human any more at all. And that frightened her so much that she withdrew into herself once more. Better not to think, not to dwell. Feed the young, care for the young.

Do not think about it...

Do not think about it.

Do not think.

* * *

They were just puppies. Cute puppies even. Were she still human, she could've appreciated that. But, she was not. Not anymore.

And they were just puppies. Her puppies at that, and once more felt the insanity bubbling up within her at that thought. But they never spoke to her, never heard her when she tried to make some sort of mental connection with them.

She named them all the same.

And her firstborn, Hugo, barely left her side, and she loved him with all that remained of her heart.

They were just her puppies.

Until they weren't.

Soon they were his, as much as she was his.

The boys were taken from her, including her sweet Hugo who screamed and cried for his mother, and she fought, fought harder than she had in weeks. She managed to get the muzzle off when she realised what was happening and she took off the man's finger and swallowed it like such meat as it was. It took two of them to kick her into submission.

They starved her for a week for that. She was no longer feeding her children, so they simply muzzled her when they ate. Until they came once more for the puppies, but this time took her aswell.

She didn't understand until she and the last of her brood were taken into a car and driven to a small house up the road. She didn't understand why, and thoughts of escape were fleeting. Because of her children. Her puppies. But even if they didn't understand her words, they understood her body in a way she didn't fully understand herself. To them she was mother, and she felt the instinctual pull to them, they were here children as much as it broke her mind to think on it too deeply. The gryffindor loyalty ran deep.

She soon understood, when people came for the remaining puppies. Unlike the boys, who she could still smell and hear as they already began the same rigorous training she had endured. The boys who howled to her on a night, her sweet Hugo who cried and she answered their calls until the men came and kicked them into quietness... The girls were _valuable._ The girls could _be sold._

She heard the man warning someone that she was protective, that she was a mother and would guard her puppies fiercely. And though her first thought was to fight, to shred and to tear... she didn't. Not when she was brought into a warm little living room, with a warm little family.

Not when her puppies were playing with the smiling children.

When the young girl picked up the smallest of her brood, a girl with honey blond hair who in her mind she'd named Luna after her friend, she saw it for what it was.

Hope. Family. Love.

It was the best she could hope for her children. To be pets. To be loved. To have family.

So she made the decision then and there to let them go. She wagged her tail and used every piece of body language to portray that she was happy, she was friendly and the little girl stroked her and hugged her and if she could she would've wept at the feeling of a friendly touch.

And the parents handed the money to the man, and took Luna with them when they left.

It is for the best. Her mind said.

Even as her body shuddered and a whine trembled through her throat when the car pulled out of sight.

It's for the best.

* * *

The cycle repeated itself.

5? or 6? more times she could not recall.

She was lucid less and less, and allowed the dog's instincts to take over more and more.

Each time the process would repeat itself. When they came for her sons, she would fight. Like a hound from hell she would fight, would tear into any and all who came close to her, even though she knew it was hopeless. That Gryffindor loyalty. That Mother's love, she would fight until her last.

But when they took her to the house, she would do everything she could to ensure the smiling couples and families would take her daughters away. She would beg them with her eyes and with her mind. _Please take them. Save them. Love them. Please._

And she would watch them drive away, hoping that their lives would be better than hers.

She had stopped fighting. It took too much energy and her leg pained her as much as her joints ached from the cold. She felt older than she sure she was.

The only time she fought was when they took her sons away, and she no longer entertained thoughts of escape. Not when her son would call to her in the night.

Other men had come and taken most of her sons to places unknown, but her eldest, her firstborn, her Hugo. He was still here. And despite his size and his strength and his muscle, for he was bigger now that she had ever been, he still called to his mother at night and would kiss her through the bars when they walked past each other. She would answer. Would always answer. She would give him whatever comfort she could.

Until one night they took him.

They took him with the others in the familiar and beat up van and she screamed and howled and panted until she was sick. A man had come to release her, to walk her up and down the kennels to try and calm her. She was no longer muzzled as she no longer fought her captors, however her howling was annoying the man but they never kicked her when she was pregnant. Instead this young man walked and walked with her hoping to calm her restless nerves, to no avail.

And then the van returned. She stopped dead in her tracks as the van pulled into the camp, and she heard the young man behind her breathe out a _"finally"_ at her silence. She watched them unload the van, the injured and anxious dogs being returned to their kennels as the others were cast to one side. She howled once but got no answer.

Until she got her answer.

When Hugo, her Hugo...was thrown on the pile with the other dead.

When his sightless eyes met hers across the camp. Eyes as green as Harry's had been.

Time stopped.

Until with a rush it started again, and she had turned to the man holding her.

Her teeth sank into his neck like a hot knife through butter, and she shook as she had been taught to do. He fell lifeless to the floor.

Then she was running towards the van, and the driver ran screaming into the camp.

She ran until she came upon the van, and Hugo... her poor sweet Hugo.

She kissed him upon his brow as she had when he was small, but his eyes remained unseeing as he lay on the pile of likewise un-moving bodies.

There was a commotion coming from the camp, and she acted with war honed instinct.

Already blood coated her, and she rolled in more that had pooled around the pile of the dead so it covered the honey of her coat. Then she laid down upon the pile of the dead, beside her sweet Hugo, with her back to the camp...and waited.

She heard the thundering footsteps and the cocking of the shotgun. Heard _ **him**_ calling and whistling out for his bonny lass, swearing and searching.

She waited until he was...just...close...enough.

Then she lunged and connected with his neck. Before he could raise the shotgun, her teeth connected with the side of his neck with surgical precision and she felt as his arm dropped dead and useless to his side, unable to hold the shotgun as it fell to the floor.

His panicked eyes met hers, as she held him within her grasp. But her weight was upon his chest bringing him to the ground and her teeth around his throat, and he was going nowhere.

He seemed to be waiting for the moment she shook and broke his neck, but he would be waiting a damn long time. As with a final sinking of her teeth...she let go.

His eyes widened in realisation then, as she sat upon his chest keeping him on the ground. Blood gurgled up into his mouth and came out in bubbles as he attempted to breathe.

He did not deserve a quick death, and she sat upon his chest for 5 minutes as she watched him slowly suffocate on his own blood. Until his eyes were as lifeless as her poor Hugo's.

And with a parting kiss to her Hugo, she turned and walked away.

* * *

**Severus will be introduced in part 2**


	2. Chapter 2

She walked for days, intent only on putting as much distance between her and the camp as possible. Food was scarce and hunger pains tore through her stomach, making her gut cramp uncomfortably. It had been a long time since the long cold walk from Hogwarts, a long time since the hunger had rocked her so. She'd grown used to regular meals in the camp, and now with her leg damaged as it was, and the extra weight that she was carrying, she couldn't hunt as she'd done on occasion before, but was still loathe to get closer to the towns and villages for the scraps of food they provided. In fact she'd be quite happy if she never came across another person again.

Eventually though the gnawing hunger and instinct to find nourishment pushed her closer into the city where she was nervous and skittish of every person that past, the smell of fetid water from the polluted river and the rubbish and grime that coated the streets filled her senses, though it was soon that she came to a startling conclusion. Unlike the wealthy and affluent neighbourhoods she'd frequented in the hopes of being adopted before being captured, nobody paid any attention to her. Nobody stopped to pet her, nobody tried to call the dog warden, in this rat infested poor community of the desolate, no one gave a damn about just another stray dog on the street. She was invisible, and people walked around her as though she wasn't there...and that suited her just fine.

Even as her stomach grew heavier, her frame grew thinner and it was with utter shock she found herself coming across the last person in the world she expected to see as she limped her way down a filthy and broken down street, with a damaged vandalised sign that read "Spinners End"

**oOo**

She was rummaging through his garden it seemed, as she searched for anything that was vaguely edible in his vegetable patch when he burst out of the backdoor with his wand trained on her. She locked eyes with him and could swear his eyes widened in recognition for a moment, but his eyes were soon shuttered once again and his wand hand dropped down to his side. Relaxing, she noted that clearly she was not what he was expecting, when he burst through the door, though since all the fighters of the light were dead and gone she wondered just who might be a threat to him. Another part of her wondered just how he'd survived, and the gruesome scar that decorated his neck almost made her shudder, if it wasn't so similar to her own.

"What are _you_ doing here?" He sneered, then after casting a lumos he looked closer at her, and seeing her condition in glaring detail his expression seemed to soften, if that was possible for Snape, and after a moment where he seemed to be in deep contemplation he reached out a hand and started to make the universal coaxing noises people make when trying to attract an animal to them.

She wished she could roll her eyes. _As if._

Instead she bared her teeth in silent warning, and he reeled back and sneered at her. "Suit yourself then" returning to his home and slamming the door behind him. She was about to leave when she heard the window opening and before she could turn back something hit her on the backside. Turning she snapped and then growled upon hearing his chuckle, but he was still firmly inside, and if her eyes weren't to be mistaken he was flipping her the bird through the window. With another growl and turning once more to leave she saw what he'd thrown at her, and came across a delicious smelling block of cheddar cheese.

Her mouth watered and scenting it carefully she noted it was free of any drugs, wizard or muggle, before quickly gobbling it up before he could change his mind and summon it back like the bastard he was.

**oOo**

She hung around the dilapidated street, and it wasn't morbid curiosity because of Snape's presence she told herself but as was with most poor areas, it was littered with the occasional pub and takeaway. For a dog, drunken people with takeaways meant one thing, dropped food. And she availed herself of whatever dropped chips, kebabs and burgers she could find though it wasn't as often as she would've liked. Seemed when you were poor as dirt, you did your drinking AFTER your takeaway so as to avoid dropping food, but as it was, she found a few mouthfuls every other day or so, and the temptation of having un-spoilt food every other day or so, was much better than rummaging through the bins.

A few days later she found herself passing by Snape's house once more, and was drawn to a delicious smell coming from the back garden. It was sliced turkey, waiting on a plate in the middle of the garden. When she approached cautiously, she wondered why no other opportunistic animals had alighted with it, when she realised it was both warded and had a stasis charm to prevent it from spoiling. She felt the magic tingle across her skin, recognised it but could not interact with it. A thorough sniff ensured that this too was free of tampering, so she quickly swallowed it, having felt the wards break when she stepped through them and knowing it was no longer protected against other opportunist feeders. When she looked up at hearing the door click, he was leant in the doorway. Once more she bared her teeth at him in warning and he sneered back, she growled and he flipped her the bird. After a few moments, they broke apart and she slinked away as she heard him return to his kitchen. Thus a routine was born.

She realised with a start that he was lonely, after a few days of repeated visits, and repeated meals, when she more often than not found him sat waiting on the step. Plus the fact that he'd taken to talking to her, or talking at her as the case may be. Usually rants to do with some 'Imbecile' in the paper, either muggle or wizarding.

She would listen as she ate, for the snippets of news that interested her. Occasionally she would sit, to allow the food he offered to digest. Though always at the opposite end of the garden, and not within his reach.

Occasionally he would send indecipherable looks to her heavy stomach and attempt to make coaxing noises once more. She always left then. Would stay away for a day or two as punishment, leave him to his loneliness.

Though the growling in her stomach never let her stay away for more than a couple of days.

At times, whatever scraps he left her were the only edible things she would find, and she wondered if he realised that in the days between seeing him she often went without a scrap of food.

One thing she was grudgingly grateful for though, was that the food he left was always real food and not dog food. Always meat or cheese of some kind, and he started leaving the odd cooked vegetable, usually sweet potato, remnants from his own food no doubt, after finding her attempting to dig up some from his vegetable patch which had left him swearing and seething and her darkly amused.

**oOo**

It wasn't enough, she knew. The scraps she got from him and the street. A part of her wanted to swallow her pride and go to him. Let him adopt her, let him feed her daily for the sake of the puppies she was carrying. He was lonely enough to take her in, that much was clear. And he had been good enough to her in his own way, if not typically caustic. That didn't mean that she trusted him not to turn her puppies into potions ingredients though. Nor did her self preservation instinct allow her to walk into the unknown, unarmed and helpless with one of the most dangerous wizards in Britain. No. Better she stay away.

Her stomach had began to hurt, she felt sick and queasy and he looked at her in what passed for concern in his eyes when she only drank the water he'd put down and didn't touch the food. He made the coaxing noise again, and for a moment she almost wavered. He must have seen her indecision because for the first time he made to stand and approach her, but his movement shocked her back into herself and she ran, this time she stayed away.

She should eat. She wanted to eat, needed to eat even, but the nausea that racked through her made it impossible. It had been almost three full days since she'd seen him, the longest she'd stayed away since she discovered him here. When she came across him in the streets.

He walked with a limp now. She'd not really seen it, having old even seen him darkening his own doorstep or through the kitchen window. It was almost as bad as hers.. but not quite. She was fortunate enough to have 3 other legs to favour instead of her injured limb, whereas he only had the 1 spare. He was coming from the shop, a plastic carrier bag in his hands and it was so _muggle_ that she couldn't help herself from stopping and staring as he walked on down the other side of the street, with his head down. A far cry from the way he had sweeped his way through the halls at Hogwarts, with his ever demanding presence. Right now he looked as though he would rather remain unnoticed. The problem was he had been noticed, and not just by Hermione.

A group of 3 young men watched him go passed and after a moments discussion amongst themselves, began to follow. Internally she cursed. She'd seen these men before, and come across a few people they'd jumped.

Her stomach rolled and it wasn't the nausea that had been plaguing her for days, instead it tasted almost like concern. She banished the thought, but she followed anyway. The street where he was walking came past an open alley, so she circled around in morbid curiosity to watch what he would do.

Before she broke through the alley there was already the signs and sounds of a struggle, but when they came into her line of sight she was shocked by what she saw. Instead of the spellfire and curses and eviscerated corpses she expected, was one passed out man on the floor that looked like he'd taken a good punch...and two others delivering a very muggle beating to a bloodied Snape on the floor.

They had both taken a step back, beating an infirmed man takes a lot out of you it seems, and were arguing about the whereabouts of his money, her guess was Snape had a 'notice me not' on his wallet and wasn't about to let the two thugs get hold of his money.

But why wasn't he fighting back with magic? Why wasn't he hexing them?

Then they were saying things that made her stomach turn. They'd rolled him onto his stomach with a kick and were talking about taking payment from him in 'other' ways that made him start fighting against them anew, as much as he could with his injuries both old and new, with little success as they managed to break his belt and get his jeans down to his knees, before landing a vicious kick in his kidney that took the fight out of him.

A part of her wanted to leave. She should leave. It was no concern of hers what happened to him, he was a criminal and a murderer. What did it matter if these men raped him in the alley? Wasn't it as much as he deserved? He was an unrepentant deatheater, he'd killed Dumbledore and probably done the same if not worse to others, In fact she had decided to leave, when she saw he'd noticed her. His eyes widened, and he shouted "No! Don't!" at her. The men laughed, they thought he was begging them to stop, they didn't see his eyes were on her. He was telling her to leave. Not to come closer. He was trying to protect her.

Confused and Discomfitted, she took a step back and the plastic of his carrier back crinkled under her foot. A white powder had spilled allover the floor, it looked like the container in the bag had burst when he dropped it, and when she read the label she turned and committed herself to action.

Welpi. Severus Snape had bought milk for her unborn puppies.

**oOo**

She started by simply walking into their line of sight. Spending so long with the fighting dogs and trainers had taught her one useful thing at least, always keep your opponent unbalanced and off guard. So she just walked into their line of sight, until they could see her. They stopped talking for a second when they saw her, so she pressed closer.

"No" Snape spat at her through a mouthful of blood. She was pretty certain he spat out a tooth aswell. "Stay back"

Once more however, she didn't listen to his pleas and edged closer to the men, tail stump wagging and a pretty and pathetic whine coming from her throat. She event went as far to pick up a piece of wood and carry it like an offering.

"Is this your little bitch then?" They asked him mockingly "It's just about as pretty as you are, probably the only bit of _tail_ you get right?, ugly bastard" They laughed at him. One of them had him in a chokehold with his knee planted in Snape's back, between his shoulders, keeping him down on the ground, as the other began unbuckling his belt, and still she made her way closer.

His eyes beseeched her to back off, more than once he begged her to stop and leave. But he didn't know who she was, didn't understand what she was capable of.

_Men always underestimated her._

Making a mocking kissing noise, the would-be rapist stopped unbuckling his belt and got close enough to pet her. When she made no move,other than to wag her stumpy tail and offer him the stick, he stroked her head "She's as pathetic as you are, some fucking guard dog" he laughed turning to the other man knelt on Snape's back. When his head was turned, she dropped the stick and struck.

With a vicious lunge she sank her teeth into his groin. He was hard already, so it made an easy target and she shook with all the precision of a seasoned fighting dog until she felt the hot blood spurt on her face as something _gave way._ He buckled forwards screaming and it brought him down to face level, so she quickly sank her teeth into his neck and shook once more, silencing him in seconds.

This time though, she let go and left him on the ground, gasping around mouthfulls of bloody air.

"Shit, Fuck oh shit!" The man on Snapes back was scrambling to his feet as she growled at him. She could feel the blood and gore drip from her teeth as she did.

Snape screamed at her to stop but she didn't listen, lunging for the man she managed to grasp his arm and bring him back to the ground. He was fit, but thin. Lightweight, the gauntness of a drug addict and his bone cracked under her assault and he screamed grasping the injured limb.

Backing off she was ready to allow him to flee, to run and lick his wounds and _learn something_ about picking on those who were perceived weaker. Instead she almost missed his lunge. She managed to dodge just enough that the knife sank to the hilt into her shoulder and not into her throat.

She screamed at the pain, but his attack left him open and she took a hold of his neck and shook once more. This time she didn't let go, his knife had hit bone and she almost screamed again when he tried to pull it out and couldn't. She tightened he grip until she felt his windpipe collapse and his with it his fighting and only then did she let him go.

There was a stirring from beside her, and she turned to face the third man. Snape's punch had downed him it seemed and he'd been out for the entire altercation.

Absently she could hear Snape calling to her and struggling to his feet as she stared at the other man who was now standing.

Taking one look at his dead and dying friends, including the would-be rapist who was also crudely castrated, and another look at her, stood there snarling and blood soaked with teeth bared and the hilt of the knife still sticking out of her shoulder, he made his decision and ran.

She didn't see what happened next though, she heard Snape call out to her, caught a glimpse of his bloody and worried visage as his arms wrapped around her, then the ground rushed up to meet her as everything went black.


	3. Chapter 3

She didn't see what happened next though, she heard Snape call out to her, caught a glimpse of his bloody and worried visage as his arms wrapped around her, then the ground rushed up to meet her as everything went black.

The world came back to her in snippets of random sensations. Her canine heightened senses first bringing her familiar yet not smells, and sounds before she even began to take stock of the darkness around her and the strange feelings in her body.

She drifted in and out, until finally awakening entirely, and she knew with just the scents and sounds that were surrounding her, that she was somewhere new. Her body was rocked with discomfort and nausea, but she didn't feel much actual hurt apart from the throbbing where the knife had entered her shoulder, taking the chance that she was in no immediate danger, for had someone wanted to hurt her they would've already done so while she was asleep and vulnerable, she made the decision to keep her eyes closed as she took in her surroundings further.

As the fogginess cleared from her senses, she felt the warmth and comfort on what she was laid on, and what felt like the warmth of a fire beside her. She could've wept for that alone, the biting cold of many nights past being an all too familiar thing. She could tell from the cracks and pops it exuded and the nostalgic smell of woodsmoke that it was a real fire and not a muggle heater or radiator and she allowed herself the pleasant memories for a moment of Hogwarts and the common room in Gryffindor tower.

So she was warm, and comfortable, dry and though she was still hungry she was no longer painfully so. Her body however felt sluggish and tight and a subtle movement of one of her limbs, only made the discomfort worse. With a shock she also realised she felt lighter and with that realisation she jerked fearfully awake, all pretences of feigning sleep, forgotten in her panic.

"Easy...easy girl, don't push yourself" the familiar voice came and she struggled to focus on him, blurry eyes finally locking onto him where he knelt an arms length away from her, reaching out as if to pet her.

He was drawn and pale , stark blue bruises covered his face and his arms that she could see weren't covered by his shirtsleeves, some of which had faded into sickly yellow. His clothes were rumpled and unkempt as though he'd slept in them for days and his hair was as lank and greasy as she had ever seen it. A moment later she realised he also smelled like he hadn't showered in days.

Her nose crinkled without her consent, body odour didn't bother her canine senses but it did bother her human sensibilities. He pulled back quickly with a look of more hurt than she'd ever seen, and she realised he must've thought she was threatening him. She quickly dropped her lip , and let loose an exacerbated sigh that made him twitch his lip in an almost smile.

Once more though, panic swam through her and she attempted to turn and examine her side, only to find herself wrapped in so many bandages, she looked as though she'd just been discovered in and Egyptian tomb.

"Steady yourself, you'll pull your stitches"

He scolded once more and his hands, gentler than she thought possible from him, eased her back down to a prone position on her side. Sitting up seemed like too much effort anyway, so she went along with his requests but it didn't stop her scenting the air emphatically as what was left of her ears twitched side to side listening for the sounds she so desperately wanted to hear and only finding silence.

Her eyes met his, and he looked away from her, unable to meet her gaze. She whined then. Begged him to understand what she was asking him and it seemed that on some level he did.

Settling gingerly on the floor, he sat beside her and after a moment cautiously placed a gentling hand on her uninjured shoulder.

"I wished I could give you better news." His voice quieter and softer than she'd ever heard it. His hand not petting her, but a constant presence.  
"You risked your life for me and you had no reason to do so. I wanted so much to save you, to save them but I could not, they could not."

Another whine broke from her but she did not move. It had been too long since she'd felt such warmth and comfort, even if it was being tainted by the words he was speaking.

"I took you straight to the veterinarian. Spent every penny I had and then some, so that they would fix you for me. So forgive me for the makeshift bed, but it will be a while before I can afford something better"

With a start she realised the luxurious comfort she was reclined on, was in fact a tattered old blanket, most likely his old one as it smelled strongly of him.

For a long time he was silent and then he spoke again.

"They couldn't save them. Your babies. I am sorry. They had already passed when I got you there, though they said they had perhaps passed on as early as the day before. Had you gone into labour they would've been still born. You had an infection in the womb, Pyometra they called it, so they had to remove it... and them to save your life."

He was quiet again, the only sound being the occasional pop, crackle or hiss from the wood fire.

"They said it was best to also remove... you had terrible mastitis. An infection in your...chest. They said it is something they see often in...females who have had many...litters. Which is the reason for all the bandages, you probably feel quite tight as well so we need to try and keep you steady so you don't pull the stitches."

No wonder she felt so light. The numerous puppies her canine body had mothered, had left her with a very visible reminder as her canine breasts had sagged painfully down to her knees almost. Not anymore.

She felt like she should be hysterical. She'd been neutered. They'd done a complete mastectomy. Were she human she'd be barren, have no breasts, no ears...She should be a wreck, but she found it was just one other thing. Just another thing. She had long since given up hope of ever finding herself human again, so instead she chose to focus on the positives. No more children to worry about, to love and to lose. No more pain in her chest when she walked, and heavy weight that pulled on her back. No more encounters with male dogs. These were all good things, so she focused on those lest her mind unhinge entirely.

"I had them cremated... I didn't want them to just be disposed of. When you are better...if you decide to stay, we can..." He trailed off with a shrug but didn't say any more.

The shrug almost startled her more than the gesture that he'd had her puppies cremated for her. For it was such an un-snapelike gesture that it almost shook her to the core, but despite the emotional pain that racked through her, she was touched.

"If you decide to stay" He spoke again. "For I shall not force you. I will not chain you or lock you up, when you are healed you are free to come and go as you please. But I would...like it, if you chose to stay...with me"

She was silent watching this taciturn man speak so openly.

"I have been so very...alone... these past years. Talking to you in the garden has been the most friendly contact I have had in years."

Friendly? She had bared her teeth at him and he had snarled right back.

Staring into the fire, he spoke quietly and almost trancelike, not even facing her.

"I was a spy you see. There was a war and I started off on the wrong side of it, though soon realised what an error I had made. I was only a boy then, 18 fresh out of Hogwarts, no money, no friends, no prospects. They took me in, gave me purpose and position but the cost was a lot greater than I had ever thought possible and I quickly realised I was in over my head."

He shook his head, clearly disgusted with himself.

"So I went back home, to Hogwarts. The only place that I'd ever felt something akin to belonging and I begged the headmaster to get me out, and to protect my friends whom had become targets of the mad man's agenda because of my own stupidity. He agreed to protect them , at the cost of my soul. So I traded one master for another and I became his spy, what little good it did anyway. He couldn't keep his promise and my friend and her partner were killed, leaving her young son an orphan, 'The boy who lived' they called him."

He's talking about Harry! Lily Potter was the friend he lost?

"But despite her death, I was still bound to the headmaster, in my fear and desperation I'd sworn an unbreakable bond to him. Barely 20 years old and he took my life from me and didn't give it back until the day he died. At my own hand. It was of his design anyway, he was dying from a curse he'd fallen foul of and wanted me to kill him to save him the torment of a slow and painful death and to cement my position as a spy. Nobody else knew. I was ready to die, I was willing to die for the cause and I almost did...but we were supposed to win."

The pain on his face was so real, she felt the echo of it in her own chest. He must've been so alone. Nobody knew.

"The boy was supposed to live. I looked after him all those years, watched out for him and stacked the game in his favour, all he had to do was win. But he didn't. And instead I watched the boy, who in another life might've been my son...I watched him die. Horribly. And when they burned and defiled the corpses , I stole his. With the last of my strength I replaced it with a golem so nobody would be the wiser, gave him to the centaurs to bury properly and I left the school and I haven't been back since. I splinched ten bells of shit out of myself and collapsed on the street outside my home and had the old woman across the street not called for a muggle ambulance that would've been the end of me.

Suddenly his limp made sense. He'd been near death in the shack already but had managed to somehow save himself, then he'd splinched himself and ended up in a muggle hospital.

"The Dark Lord never knew of my treachery and when he realised I had in fact survived, in all his graciousness" the word was spat "he allows me to live out my life in peace, now I am of no further use to him anyway."

If she had the ability to cry she would've done. He never looked at her the entire time he was speaking, but she knew. From his body language, his scent, the patterns in his voice...she knew he was telling the truth.

"You owe me nothing, and I owe you everything. The day you turned up in my life, I was about to end it all. Then you saved me again from those thugs, and nearly died for me, when I'd done aught but show you trivial little kindnesses, despite it all... I think we could make each other perhaps not happy but...content? I do not know if happiness is something either of us could achieve, I believe we may be too damaged with the lots we have been dealt in life." Here his hand caressed the harsh lines of her cropped ears and he looked unfathomably sad. "I thought perhaps the fates brought you to me. I had always wanted a familiar but one was never forthcoming, no owl or cat or toad ever chose me and I had thought to myself perhaps I just had to wait because I needed a companion as broken as I was to truly be mine"

Her heart ached in her chest for the lonely man beside her.

"But we could make a go of it could we not? Us two broken things? We could try?"

Her eyes met his and for a moment she wished he understood, wished she could tell him who she was, that she knew him, she understood him and she forgave him all his perceived sins. That he wasn't alone, that someone knew he was a good man. Someone didn't hate him. Someone cared.

"What do you think?"

And then the thought turned bittersweet, as he stroked her head gently with no recognition in his eyes.

So she placed a paw on top of his hand and rested her chin on his arm.

Yes, they could try.

oOo

Her recovery was a slow one, her body was painful and stiff and she at once felt remorseful for the way she had scolded Crookshanks for not taking his medicine, because the stuff Snape had been given by the veterinarian was horrible and both tasted and smelled so strongly of chemicals, to her heightened senses they were particularly unpalatable. It had prompted Snape to many hours of reading his vast collection, trying to find herbs or a poultice that would not provide fatal to her canine body.

In fact, Snape turned out to be better company that she expected. He even amused her at times, he talked to her frequently but was awkward and his social skills were dreadful but she was thankful for the fact that he half believed her to be his familiar, for she was sure it was either that belief or his utter lack of experience with pets, that made him continue to talk to her as though she understood him. Which of course she did, he just didn't know that, but she wanted to encourage him in his beliefs because it was stimulating her mind and distracting her thoughts to finally be talked to like someone one and not something.

She was also glad that he continued feeding her human food, and she had been right in her prior assumption that it was part of his own meal he'd been sharing with her during her garden visits. He made his own small meals and would portion her a plate of whatever he was making. It was clear that he was not lying when he said he'd spent the majority of his money on her, for there was no longer the meat and cheese they had shared before, but the meals he made for them were typical 'struggle' meals, designed to be cheap and filling and nothing fancy, things like potato stew and corned beef hash. One thing they ate a lot of was toast , because loaves of bread were cheap from the muggle supermarkets and bread was filling so they often ate buttered toast for two meals a day. Something he would frequently apologise to her for. But she didn't understand why. The warm toast was delicious, especially as he did it properly over the fire and he always bought the proper butter too, he mustn't realise what an amazing thing he was doing for her, that he was feeding her better than she'd been fed in months, and keeping her warm, comfortable and sane while he did it.

To make his money he brewed and sold freelance potions, both to apothecaries, St. Mungos and private contracts. She had been ordered to stay out of his lab when he was in there working, and she had respected his wishes, though he had always kept the door open so they could 'talk' as he'd put it. His already slow movements had been slowed down even further by the beating he'd taken and she had wondered briefly why he was so bereft for cash, when he was a world class potions master, with a number of sound contracts and he surel had people chomping at the bit for his potions? Whether you were on the light side or the dark side, every body needed potions for something or other. A couple of weeks later, she got her answer when there was a crash from his lab and a explosion of profanities. Leaping to her feet, her guts twisted in turmoil and indecision, before she committed herself to action and bound herself into his lab to find the man sprawled on the floor, swearing profusely and cradling his injured wrist.

"Usually I would reprimand you for ignoring my orders, but in this case I shall overlook it given the circumstances" The words were wry and self depreciating as she came to stand beside him, from his position on the floor. She sniffed him quickly to ascertain if he was bleeding, he wasn't, and then she whined softly in her throat, it was the noise she used when she was asking him something and he sighed deeply before gesturing across the room. "Fetch me my wand will you?" Looking across the room she found his wand where it had rolled under the work table and returned it to him.

You should be more careful. She thought to herself, and he snorted for her thoughts must have been plainly written in the stern expression on her face.

"Yes, yes I know, don't lambast me woman" He pulled himself up from the ground with a grunt when he'd fixed his wrist, his leg and back stiff as he hoisted himself up with the aid of the stool beside him. It was clear he was struggling though, she often thought he should walk with a cane to save his leg and back the trouble but pride wouldn't allow him to. When he was halfway up it became obvious he was reaching the end of his reserves so with a put upon sigh, she used her considerable size to basically push him up from behind. All right there old man? she thought to herself with humour and he scowled at her actions over his shoulder., but then gave in and chuckled.

"Don't judge me, this war has aged me well past my years, and you're one to talk, is that some grey fur on your head?"

She sneezed indignantly and made an incredulous noise. Bastard. But he only chuckled.

When he was back in his seat, she quickly took note with interest what he was brewing, and she sat beside him with what she hoped was a questioning look on her face.

He sighed and finally gave her the answer to her unasked question.

"I have orders coming out of my ears, but I don't have the strength or the energy to fulfil them all. Mungo's are my priority, they don't pay the most but they buy the most, it is the contract with them that keeps food on the table as it is a guaranteed monthly income. Private contracts pay more, for rare or specific potions but I turn down more than I accept and I have a waiting list as long as my arm, but..." he gestured to his small store room that was annexed off from the main potions bench he was sat at. "Many ingredients are too volatile to be handled with magic, so cannot be summoned and they are much too volatile to be kept on the work bench so close to the cauldron, so I have to go retrieve them just as the potion calls for them... but herein lies the problem."

He rubbed his injured leg, from what she gathered the venom of Nagini's bite had caused some nerve damage on the left side of his body.

"I either cannot get the ingredients back to the potion bench quick enough before it spoils, or If I do I end up overexerting myself and then I am too tired to be able to finish more than one potion a day. If I had the strength I had before the war, I could triple my income by having three or more cauldrons on the go at once, covering Mungo's contract and taking the better paying orders too, but with my lack of mobility I'm lucky to manage one at a time." He shook his head incredulously at the potion in the cauldron in front of him and snorted self derisively."I was the foremost potion master in Europe, and now I'm going to ruin this single cauldron of bruise paste because I can't fetch a jar of fucking shrivelfigs in time. "

Without missing a beat she rose from the floor and trotted into the store room. Locating the jar of shrivelfigs she carefully grasped it in her mouth, making sure her teeth didn't break the seal and brought it back to him at the workstation.

He looked at her in silence for a moment, before cautiously taking the jar from her grasp, looking at her as though she had gifted him the moon. After a moment an ominous pop came from the cauldron and he jerked into action, quickly slicing and adding the shrivel figs.

Resealing the jar , he considered the item in his hand before holding it out to her cautiously.

"Can you return this to where you got it, and bring me murtlap essence...please?"

Carefully she took the jar from him, and did what he asked.

This time there was no hiding the emotion on his face, as he grasped the jar in his hand as though it was a lifeline.

"Thank You. It seems we really do belong together"

She grumbled, embarrassed, before barking at his cauldron.

Stop embarrassing me and lets get the work done , I miss the good cheese.

He chuckled and resumed what he was doing , though this time he conjured a comfortable seat for her to sit on beside him.

With Hermione's help, he did triple his income, more in fact and it soon became their new routine to spend most of the day brewing together.

In fact, with her help he was once more able to handle multiple cauldrons at once, quadrupling his productivity (and income) despite getting his brewing time cut down to a more reasonable 9 hours a day, leaving them more time to relax, drink tea and read.

He talked the entire time he brewed, to Hermione it felt as though she was almost a real apprentice, despite all she could do was fetch and carry, or occasionally bark to alert him to a brew about to boil over when he was handling multiple cauldrons. He said it kept his mind sharp, and allowed his creativity to flow, he acted as though she was a sounding board and he was bouncing ideas off her, when in reality he talked at her and got no reply, so in essence he was talking to himself...though at least sometimes saying it aloud had helped him to realise and idea that had been floating about within his grasp and he'd been unable to put his finger on it.

The first thing he had done when she began to assist him, was walk her through his potion stores and for that she was grateful. Though she recognised most of the ingredients offhand, her mind had atrophied somewhat so she was immensely relieved he was taking the time to learn her the ingredients (or re-learn her as was the actual case, that he remained blissfully unaware of). Not only that , but she also had to come to terms with the way her canine body altered the way she perceived things. Though she recognised that certain colours were not quite as strong as they once were, she couldn't say she'd ever really focused on how strongly flobberworm mucus smelled, but despite the fact as a human she could barely tell it apart from grindylow slime, as a dog the scent gave it away every time. In fact with many similar looking ingredients, Hermione's heightened sense of smell allowed her to tell them apart quicker than even Snape could visually differentiate them. Upon learning that, he went through every ingredient in his collection, allowing her to scent the jars to imprint the smell of the ingredients on her memory , which remained as eidetic as it had been when she was human.

It was on one such day that she came across an unlabelled jar, and as he was busy reorganising the shelves so that she was able to reach all the ingredients without risking damaging them, she took it upon herself to examine it.

What was this doing here? Is it ...Jam?

It was clear from the coating of dust that the jar had been there a long time, perhaps it was forgotten remnants of his grandmother's preserves, as he'd mentioned once when they were eating toast about his fondness for marmalade , had come from the pleasant memories associated with his grandmother and her habit of making and gifting her own jams and preserves, once stored in this cellar before it had been converted for a potions lab. It certainly looked and smelled like jam, sweet and fruity, lacking the label the potions ingredients had it looked quite a lot like blackcurrant but it smelled like gooseberries and she was just about to stick her nose in for another sniff when she suddenly yelped in pain at the feel on a harsh whack on her side, then found herself unceremoniously yanked backwards by the neck, that she hit the floor behind so hard, her bad leg gave way and she fell in a heap on the floor.

"What do you think you're playing at you stupid nosy little bitch, don't ever do that again!"

His face was a grimace of anger but she could care less about his expression as her whole world seemed to crumble at her feet.

He hit me.

He hit me.

He actually struck me, over some damn preserve?

She hadn't realised she was crying until she saw the look on his face crumple into dismay, canine instincts had allowed the pitiful cry out before she'd even realised it and her body slunk low to the ground in instinctual submission, he reached out to her but she flinched violently back from him and his face broke at her obvious fear.

"I'm -" she didn't give him the chance to finish, the second he took his hand back she had scrabbled to her feet and darted out of the room, leaving him alone in the larder.

The doors were locked, so she hid. Tucking herself under furniture and as far away from him as she could get. He came and knelt awkwardly on the floor, whispered apologies and tried to talk to her, but if he got too close she growled in warning. When her initial fear had given way and her heart beat returned to normal, she found herself furious. Furious at him, and furious at herself for allowing herself to be afraid of him. Allowing herself to wrap her righteous anger around herself like armour, she made her way out from her hiding place without hesitation, ignoring him attempting to scrabble to his feet , as she made her way to the door. He was speaking to her but she ignored him. She sat pointedly staring at the locked door , not acknowledging him and her message couldn't be clearer. It was over and she was leaving.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes and kept being confronted by his devastated visage, as he tried to get through to her , he reached out as if to touch her shoulder and she snapped at him in warning , before standing and barking at him angrily as she scratched the door hard enough to gouge it.

"Please, just let me -"

She snarled over him. She wouldn't allow him to speak, every time snarling or barking over him. He had crossed a line, and there was nothing he could say to change her mind.

Eventually he backed off , he didn't unlock the door though, he even added a ward so she couldn't force it open and she snarled at him anew , until he disappeared.

She didn't move though, continuing her angry protest as she stood waiting by the door. She wouldn't move until he opened it. She could outlast him, that was for sure.

There was muffled banging and swearing coming from upstairs and after an unknown length of time , he returned.

In one hand he held a doxy , no doubt caught in the motheaten attic and that was what all the banging had been about, in the other he held the jar.

She growled in warning when he tried to speak, he silenced but did not move, instead planting both the Doxy and the opened jar on the floor in her line of sight.

Freed of his grasp the doxy landed upon the jar and began to feast itself. After eating its fill , which equated to no more than a teaspoon for the dimminutive creature, it zipped into the air where it began to fly about angrily, and in typical doxy fashion throwing around any items it was strong enough to overturn. A minute later it fell out of the sky and landed at her feet...dead.

She flinched at the sudden sound it made as it impacted the floor , and she couldn't help but to indulge her canine senses and sniff it to see if it was truly dead as she thought... it was.

Finally she met his eyes, he looked haggard as though the stress of the past few hours had sapped him of what little strength he had.

"Atropa Belladonna. Diced nightshade berries. Quite potent and quite deadly. If you'd have ingested any, even a single taste, you would've been quite dead in minutes. Before I could've done anything about it. I didn't...I don't want you to die. I was frightened and I did the only thing I could to make you stop...quickly. I should never have struck you , I know that , but I was afraid. I can't lose you, don't you understand? Everything else...everyone else is lost and I can't lose you too, I wouldn't survive it"

Her eyes met his and the silence stretched between them for the longest time, until with a harsh sigh she left her post and made her way over to the sofa, settling herself in what had become her position, where they would sit and relax together, as he read aloud to her.

She watched his body sag as though a huge weight had been taken from his shoulders. then continued to observe him as he vanished the dead Doxy and placed the nightshade in a warded cabinet , well above her reach in the kitchen. She snorted at this , as if she would make that mistake again. She relaxed more as he began the familiar process of making tea. When he settled beside her with a cup for himself , and one poured into a bowl for her, she allowed herself to lean slightly into his side. He tensed for a moment then seemed to relax entirely back into the sofa , hand stroking the soft hair atop her head which felt more pleasant than she wanted to admit.#

"I am truly sorry, but I would do it again in a heartbeat"

She rested her head on his arm.

I forgive you

A few weeks later they were reading when Severus suddenly took interest in something in the muggle paper. She knew something had grabbed his interest because he'd paused reading aloud and began to frown in concentration.

She nudged him to get him back on track, and he apologised before speaking again.

"Apologies. Listen to this"

And he read out the headline as her heart stuttered in her chest.

Discovery of Two Dead Bodies leads to raid on Illegal Dogfighting Ring and Puppy mill.

The bodies of two men were found half buried in a ditch with wounds suggesting they were killed by dogs , CCTV footage led officers to an encampment that was followed by a month long stake out leading to the discovery of an Illegal Dog Fighting ring and Puppy mill. 10 people have been arrested with a further 20 receiving suspended sentences, the bodies of 10 dogs were found and 35 more including 10 puppies have been taken in by the RSPCA and will be searching for new homes.

She was silent though found herself moving closer to him on the sofa, she needed his solid presence beside her. They're caught, they caught them because of her, the others are rescued, they're safe...they're safe.

"Your doing?" He asked gently, gesturing to the title and she huffed in surprise as she looked at him.

"It doesn't take a genius to guess where those scars came from" he stroked her scarred flank as he spoke and she tensed. Would he judge her now? For what she'd done, what had been done to her.

"Don't fret." he practically whispered, "I do not blame you and I don't think any differently of you. Besides," he said jokingly "You had to be broken enough to find me remember?" and for the first time she planted a kiss on his cheek.

They had settled into a comfortable routine , so much so that a year seemed to fly by without them noticing.

She didn't know what she should feel stranger about, the fact that they now shared a room, or the fact that he called her Granger.

He had purchased a child sized bed which she slept on, though more often that not ended up in his.

It was a thought that should've made her blush , or mortified her younger self but it just...happened. She would often wake up screaming , memories from the war and the fights, her children...her Hugo. And he would find himself on the floor comforting her, until he eventually just told her to get into the bed because kneeling on the floor wasn't any good for his bad leg.

Likewise he had nightmares too, terrible ones where he'd be the one who'd wake up screaming. He'd fall back into bed and lay there with his arm covering his face as he tried to get his breath back, tremors still shaking his body. The first time it happened, it seemed totally natural to jump into his bed and lay her body against his chest, like a weighted blanket. Hugging him the best she could. He had started at first in shock, but then after a moment, he'd released a shuddering breath and held onto her. It's alright, I'm here, you're not alone. She let her steady breathing slow him back into sleep and remained by his side until morning.

He had 'named' her so to speak, when they were out doing their shopping. He'd taken to walking with a cane, at her insistence, which had been emphatically blocking the front door until he took it with him and it did make things easier for him, once he'd swallowed his pride. They were heading to the muggle supermarket for once , as their local shop they usually frequented was being re-fitted. She picked up the basket out of habit, as it was easier for her to carry it when he was walking with his cane and they were just about to walk in when they were stopped by a member of security.

"No dogs inside mate." She'd huffed indignantly, around a mouthful of the basket and she could tell from the look on Severus's face he was about to rip into the man when a staff member came over.

"Come off it Dave, that's no pet she's working mate, he's got a stick and look at her with that basket, you can see she's trained... she an assistance dog pal? "

Severus arched an eyebrow but she knew he wouldn't pass this opportunity to Slytherin his way out of it.

"She is here to assist me. "

Well it wasn't a lie

"Cracking. She one of those trained rescues then? I've heard about them, rehabing rescue dogs and training them for all sorts, what's her name?"

He stroked her head gently and she did her best not to scowl at him for getting in her personal space, seeing as he seemed to genuinely want to help. Severus seemed taken aback at the question though and it took him a moment to reply and when he did, it shocked her.

"Granger. Her name is Granger"

Hermione looked at him sharply, and the man looked at him none the wiser so Severus elaborated.

"I named her after a former student of mine, a real know it all, with how quickly she picks things up, it seemed fitting"

Hermione relaxed a bit, even if she was somewhat saddened and the man just smiled.

"Let them in then Dave mate?"

The security scowled but when Severus emphatically leaned on his cane, and Hermione held back a snort of humour , he decided it really wasn't worth risking a sanction for discrimination when she clearly was 'trained' and wasn't causing harm to anyone.

"She's got to have her collar on next time mate, it's the law"

"Apologies, it slipped my mind"

They were finally allowed in the store and she looked at him curiously.

"Sorry, about the name. I suppose it is something we should have discussed before now, It was the only thing that sprang to mind, and you are a bit of a know it all, you remind me of her sometimes"

She chuffed and he smiled softly. "We can think of something else, if it is not acceptable?" It was fine, even though it almost broke her heart as much as it thrilled her, so she simply leaned into his leg , to let him know she was ok with it.

"Come on then Granger, it's time for you to assist poor old me" and she couldn't help but chuff in humour once more.

He made her a collar when he was pulled up on the fact once more, and to continue to reap the benefits of the common belief she was in fact his service animal, he decided to play along. She had huffed at the idea of it , until he presented her with what he'd made. It was so fine and delicate, made of soft lambs leather that it sat around her neck more like a choker necklace than a collar. She wore it with pride. Especially when she noticed he'd made himself a matching wristband.

It had been a few years, perhaps two or three, when they stumbled upon something that made her heart almost beat out of her chest.

Luna.

Her Luna.

And not only her Luna , but one of her sons she'd named for Remus.

They were walking them in the park that she and Snape had taken to ambling through on a weekend after a visit to the local deli for coffee and fresh bread. They were grown up now, but she'd know them anywhere and she couldn't help it, she saw them and she ran.

Severus swore and took off after her as fast as he could with his injured leg, and the couple had shouted out in shock at the sight of her barrelling towards them, trying to rein in their own dogs until Luna and Remus had seen her. And started yelling out in returned excitement. She reached them and peppered both with kisses , and Luna who had never seen the rings and still boasted a full tail and both ears, couldn't stop wagging but it was Remus who was crying out in delight as she greeted them, Remus was scarred in the face like his namesake, and was also missing an eye, along with his tail and ears as she herself was, his scarred body proclaimed him a fighting dog, but the cheerful baby blue bandanna he wore proclaimed him a "rescue and proud"

Snape arrived, somewhat winded but no less composed.

"Apologies, she saw you and took off, she's not usually so excitable"

The family smiled at the stoic man, they stroked Hermione and she allowed it but she was more concerned with laving love and affection on her two children. "It's alright, we recognised her as soon as they did, we haven't seen her since we collected Honey, did you rescue her too? We hoped to see her at the kennels, we felt so bad that we'd fallen for the puppy mill scam so we went and rescued Dino as soon as we were able, we would have taken her though if we'd seen her, She's Honey's mum of course but I didn't realise she was Dino's too because he's 2 years younger, I'm so glad she's alright"

"Indeed" He said and Hermione almost wished she could cry with happiness at seeing her babies safe and mostly whole in front of her.

"I'm sorry if this is rude but I have to ask, would you ever consider letting her go? We just always had it in our head since we found out about the raid that we were going to rescue Honey's mum"

Hermione almost froze and she turned to consider Snape, they probably couldn't read the stoic man but she could and his look was pained. She knew the thoughts and self doubt that would be racing through his head. But she had already made her decision. With a final parting kiss to both dogs, she made her way back to Snape's side. Sitting beside him and leaning into his leg, she looked up and tried to convey as much emotion to him as she could.

She loved her children, she always would... but they were grown up now, they were her past and as odd as it may seem, Severus Snape was her future, she was sure of it.

He breathed out when she sat beside him and he smiled properly for the first time she could remember.

"I take no offence, but It looks like I am stuck with her. Us two broken things, it appears we work well together"

The family had smiled and after a moments idle chat had parted ways.

If she stayed closer to him than usual that night he said nothing, but she didn't think anything either when he held her tight while they read together.

More and more years passed by, and she didn't know who was sporting more grey hairs, her or him. The news came of the Dark Lord's death and the subsequent struggle to rebuild. All the fighters for the light had died years since , but even the dark side grew to become too much for even the sacred 28 to bare. The magical world was taking great pains to repair itself, though neither light nor dark they had decided on creating a fairer government rather than employing only the rather dictator-esque policy of a single minster for magic. Though Severus and Hermione gave it no mind. It held no semblance to them anymore, Severus used magic when needed and had never turned his back on his wizarding heritage, the got the daily prophet and occasionally ventured to an apothecary if it was necessary but they were not of the magical world. Not anymore. There was no place for broken things of the past, in a society trying to rebuild a future... and that suited them just fine, because there was nothing and no-one left for them there anyway.

Their work together over the years had made them a tidy amount of money, as Severus owned the house and the only luxuries they really splurged on were nice food and good books.

It was...nice... growing old together, as it was. But her own bad leg pained her more and more and Severus had to resort to wearing his glasses most of the time because he was getting headaches from squinting all the time when he tried to read without them.

The potions business was slowing down now anyway, neither had much energy for it any more and they certainly didn't need the money, though Severus kept himself on retainer for St. Mungo's and Hogwarts in case either needed a specialist brew, but for the most part they read and napped and enjoyed fresh bread and pastries at the local bakery.

Until one night came and she just couldn't bring herself to climb the stairs anymore. Severus had called to her and she had looked wistfully at the stairs, thoughts of their comfy bed and then settled herself on the sofa with a deep sigh.

He frowned for a moment before she yelped when she felt the sofa extending neatly out from under her. He'd transfigured it into a simple double bed.

And she couldn't help it if she felt warmed by the gesture even if he broke the silence by telling her to move over because she was hogging all the space. Settling himself beside her, she made her way over to his chest and layed over him as had become their norm. And as per usual he grumbled about the damned liberties she was taking with his person. It didn't stop him from wrapping his arms around her and holding her close when he thought she was asleep though.

The next day on their slow walk to the bakery, Severus suddenly stopped to look at a sign in the realtors office window and she almost plowed into the back of his legs, letting out a disgruntled grumble about his abrupt stop.

"What do you think of this ?" He asked , pointing to sign that was just within her sight range. It was a bungalow , in a village in the country just a few miles out of the city. Quiet enough to be peaceful , but close enough to be a bus ride away from the shops.

She looked at him with all the warmth she could muster and he smirked back. "Perhaps it is time to spend on something more than just the good cheese, no ?"

And she couldn't help chuffing in amusement as he made his way inside to make enquiries.

The bungalow was everything they had dreamed it would be. Severus had shrank and boxed all the magical artefacts and they'd hired a muggle moving company for the rest. They had just enough money in the nest egg to cash buy the bungalow outright, which they did quickly so as not to miss out, which meant that the money from the house at spinner's end was going to be their new nest egg once it cleared. Fortunately a company was buying up all the old houses on the estate to demolish and put up a block of high rise flats , which meant they got more than they were expecting to from the sale of the somewhat derelict building and were now just waiting for the cheque to clear.

It was a very traditional country village , which meant that nobody blinked an eye at Severus taking his dog everywhere. Even the local pub welcomed her, which meant they would occasionally stop in for a pint which was a novel experience. Though Hermione obviously never drank, they quite often shared bar snacks and on the odd occasion they'd come in for the sunday roast and the Pub Landlord was more than happy to put her down a plate , even if she was relegated to a disposable cardboard one.

They were friendly with their neighbours and it was nice to have a clean break from their old lives. Severus especially. Everyone in the magical world knew who he was, and he'd grown up in the house at Spinner's end where he'd always be seen as the poor strange boy that grew up there, who was beaten by his father and if rumour was to be believed , grew up to kill him. She didn't know if it was true and frankly she didn't care. If his father was enough of a monster that he would beat and abuse his own child , then as far as Hermione was concerned he wasn't worth mourning.

More years slipped by in the bungalow and they both revelled in the peace and routine of their life. Severus was different now, calmer and more at ease than she'd ever known him.

It had even made him approachable, and she had become unreasonably incensed when a woman had the gall to flirt with him in a cafe. It struck her by surprise though it bowled Severus over even more, though she expected him to rebuff her, he remained polite. Not realising she was growling until the woman looked at her askance, Hermione had to walk outside before she bit the simpering woman.

When Severus didn't immediately follow her, she was both hurt and angry. Angry with him, angry with the woman and angry with herself for being angry. Severus was still human, she had him to herself so long that she had come to think of him as her Severus and it pained her to think that though he was her whole world, he might long for some distinctly female company to share his bed, that wasn't dog shaped...and to do more than just cuddle with. This was his fresh start too , and he deserved the chance at happiness, so she did the only thing she could do... she left.

She'd started in the direction of home but had then turned away and headed in the opposite direction. He wouldn't want her underfoot , especially if he planned on bringing the woman home with him. So she walked aimlessly for hours, trying to plan her next move but drawing a blank. She couldn't stay in the village that was for sure, it would be too painful to see him. Though what direction to go in she didn't know. The heaven's had opened as though the weather itself was tied to her miserable mood and rain came thick and fast and chilled her to the bone. Her body shook and her leg ached with a vengeance as she found herself simply unable to walk any further, as she found some shelter under a hedgerow.

It was there she laid , unable to find the strength or the will to go any further , feeling as though her whole world had been taken away from her.

Darkness crept around her and still she did not move , even as it blanketed her surroundings. The only light coming from a streetlight further down the road as the rest of the world continued to turn without her.

Sleep beckoned, an overwhelming tiredness that seemed heavy on her frame and she closed her eyes , and hoped not to open them again.

The first thing she became aware of was a bright light , and she turned herself into it. Went willingly towards it, she was being lifted into the air and she relaxed as she felt the weightlessness of herself leave the ground. Warmth and comfort blanketed her , chasing away the chill that had crept into her bones and she could hear Severus's voice calling to her in the distance. Everything was good.

Until there was another voice, much closer than Severus's. A familiar male voice that finally made her open her eyes in confusion.

She wasn't dead. But she was wrapped in a blanket and being held by Joe , the butcher from the village, brandishing a torch that lit up the rain soaked street and it was him that was shouting.

"I've got her mate, it's definitely her!"

And then her senses were filled with Severus, her Severus. She was being passed into his arms , despite her size and she wondered briefly if he had cast a lightening spell to manage her size with his bad leg. He looked as haggard as he'd even been during the war.

"Don't ever do that to me again Granger" was choked out on a sob and she didn't know if she was more shocked that he was alone, the woman nowhere to be seen, or that he'd allowed himself to cry in front of their neighbours.

Joe gave his shoulder a squeeze and she felt them being bundled into the back of a car, and realised Joe must be driving them home. She vaguely noticed a few other people meandering away and thought to herself that Severus must have had half the village out looking for her. Severus was sat in the back seat with her, and had yet to let her go. When he spoke it was with a tone low enough for only her to hear.

"That blasted woman wouldn't let me go, I told her I wasn't interested and she still insisted on giving me her number before I left, when I came out you were gone and I've never been so frightened in my life. Not the war, not voldemort...never" He pressed his face into her neck and she breathed out a heavy sigh.

"I told her that I only have room for one female in my life, and that spot is already filled." She pressed her face into his neck and wished she could cry as he was.

"Don't ever do that to me again Granger. I shall not survive it" He kissed her head softly and she allowed herself to relax in the safety of his arms.

She was weary. Her bones creaked when she stood , and they found themselves venturing out less and less often as neither of them could manage the walk. She didn't know how long they had been in the bungalow now. Long enough for the seeds they had sown to become fully fledged plants that bore fruits and flowers. Long enough for there to be grooves worn into the carpets where their favourite comfortable chair was.

They went to bed early now, because Severus could no longer read in the evenings, even with the lamp light his eyes would strain until he pushed the book to the side with a frustrated growl , because he didn't have the strength to cast a strong enough lumos anymore.

It was one such evening that Severus was busy making their evening cup of tea and toast, and she started at the smash of his cup hitting the floor.

He was swearing, and moving his head side to side, but remained frozen in the spot. And she realised after a moment with a pang, he was barefoot and unable to see where the sharp shards had landed. He attempted a cleaning charm, but his strength sagged and there was still the tinkle of shards of porcelain on the tile.

Wearily she made her way over to him, until she stood by his side, the faded leather collar about her neck, just under his hand and he grasped it with a sigh.

"Right then. A job for morning. Shall we go to bed?"

Bed sounded perfect, as her bones protested and she carefully and slowly led him to their bedroom.

The next morning he sent a bunch of papers off via owl to Gringotts, she wasn't certain what they were but she could hazard a guess. He'd wrote them a couple of years ago when his vision had first started failing him.

Two more days passed and he could no longer read during the daylight either. Nagini's venom which had been slowly eating away at his nerves over the years, had almost entirely robbed him of his sight.

He went to lay on the bed and she followed, but found that her back and her legs protested her movement and when it came to reach the bed, she simply didn't have the energy. So she lay where she was, beside the bed unable to find the strength to make that last climb.

Without missing a beat, Severus carefully lifted her into their bed, apologising when she cried out in pain as the movement jostled her bad leg.

He disappeared for a moment, and she heard the kettle boil and the clink of kitchenwear.

When he limped his way back into the bedroom, it was with tea and their beloved toast.

They'd never eaten in bed before, both too neat to want to deal with the crumby aftermath, but this was a singular occasion it would seem.

They drank the tea and then he offered her a slice of toast, smothered with jam. It looked like blackcurrant, but smelled like goosberries.

Meeting his eyes, still as dark as coal, she saw the matching slice held in his own hand.

She took ate it , without hesitation and watched as he did the same, then a flick of his wand hand him laying back in exhaustion and she settled herself in his arms once more.

The flames danced in the kitchen, painting patterns of colour on the walls, and the wooden counter as it burned smelled just like the logs they used to warm the fires in the great hall in winter.

Severus tighten his arms around her, and she relaxed into his embrace and slept.

...

...

..

.

She was surrounded by books. The familiar sights and sounds of Diagon Alley in the background, it sounded as though she was surrounded by people but she was the only one stood in Flourish and Blotts... save one other.

Two if you wanted to be technical.

Severus stood a short distance from her, he was smiling and he looked younger than she could remember seeing him. Though he stood as upright and proud as she remembered him when she first started Hogwarts, lithe and elegant and not twisted and damaged by two wars and a giant snake.

There was a bundle in his arms that twisted with excitement and though not quite the same as she remembered him, the baby smiled and laughed when he saw her and she would know her Hugo anywhere.

She wanted to tear into his arms, but he'd let to do anything but smile and so she held herself back, unsure of her welcome.

"Hello" She said shly and he chuckled back.

"We're a bit past Hello aren't we Granger?" He joked and she met his eyes, seeing the familiar warmth she had come to know.

"You knew? " She whispered as she approached him, and took the bundle from his arms, breathing in his scent and pressing her head to his causing the boy to giggle happily.

"I knew." He confirmed and pulled her into his arms, pressing a kiss into her riotous curls.

"When I recognised you, I knew immediately what spell she'd used. There was no cure for it. I wanted to keep you safe, as much as I could, but I left it for you to decide whether you wanted me to know it was you. I didn't know if it would be easier or harder for you to live your life that way, knowing that I knew who you were. It wasn't for me to decide , so I left the choice to you, I knew the smartest witch of the age would find a way to tell me who she was if she wanted to"

"Since when?" She asked, leaning into his chest and delighting in his embrace as he wrapped his arms fully around her. "How long did you know?"

"Always"

She smiled and kissed him on the lips for the first time and Hugo giggled happily between them.

"Time to go love, the train's coming"

Do we have a few more minutes to read? There are so many books here we haven't read.

Her hands stroked the covers lovingly and he smiled, capturing her hand in his and kissing it gently.

"There's all these and more in the Hogwarts library, you know that." He said with a chuckle as they made their way out of the alley and towards the platform that she couldn't quite remember being so close to the book store before.

"And we'll have time to read together for a while?" She asked with a smile and he answered her with his own.

"All the time in the world"

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This story, from the dog's perspective, was mostly based on the real life of a rescue dog we once had called Hope, who came from a raid on a dog fighting ring / puppy mill in my area.
> 
> She had multiple litters of puppies, had her ears cropped with a machete and tail docked by a butcher's knife. Along with mutliple injuries from dog fighting.
> 
> Anyhow, this was something I just needed to get off my chest, thank you for taking the time to read. Severus will be introduced in part 2


End file.
